


Crayons

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Timeline, death /, hoo boy dont let me write, its an old fic that im finally uploading ok, its pretty bad, stuffing the dead bodies of your best friends and talking to them, suicide /
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:46:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn't want to die again, but really, what other choice does she have?</p>
<p>It isn't as though she doesn't get bored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The World Goes Dark Sometimes

Your name is Rose Lalonde, and you have just broken your last red crayon.

You gaze back along the wall, at the marks you made in days gone by, where the red lines fade into green and then into blue. You weren’t sure how many days it had been since the end. Counting all your tally marks would simply take too long.

You walk down the tiled steps of the castle, silent aside from the rustle of your orange skirts. The blood had long since been scrubbed away, a product of the unhappy mix of loneliness and immortality. You push open the door to the room you dubbed as “yours” in this lifetime. You never really wanted to sleep in a room you had died in previously. Bad luck, John would have said. You really want to talk to him.

You sit on your bed, facing your childhood friend. A battle-worn blue shirt drapes across his chest. The color could almost illuminate his dull eyes, you think. You clear your throat hesitantly, reaching for one of the many recording devices you had alchemized out of boredom, and hitting the record button. You try to speak, but no words formed. After a short bout of coughing and some failed attempts, you manage to force a few sounds out.

"Hello, John. You look very…lively today." You bark out a short laugh, realizing too late that it sounds more maniacal and panicked than humorous. "Have you been feeling well?"

Silence is all you get in return, but that was only to be expected. You reach out a tentative hand and lay it on his cheek.

"You can hardly see the stitches in this light John, see?" Your voice breaks and you find yourself positioning John’s arms awkwardly around your shoulders. You huddle close to your best friend, clasping his body to yours like a lifeline.

You stay like that for a few minutes, hours, seconds, days. Eventually you break away from him and put his arms back to his sides, wiping the tears from your violet eyes.

"I’m out of red crayons," you whisper, more to yourself than to the boy in front of you. He doesn’t understand the meanings behind that, but you do. It means you’ll have to move out of this room and find another in this castle, this castle with its endless corridors and countless chambers, this castle where your mother died. Where your friends died. Where your enemies died. Where you would die too, if this game would only let you. Immortality seemed like such a wonderful concept at the time. Who knows why it kept you alive, when it sent everyone else to the grave. God knows you don’t.

You close the bedroom door behind you, locking it with a swift turn of the key. It looks strangely empty now, without your friends on the massive four-poster bed waiting for you or your yarn strewn across the floor. You take a look at the mirror to your right. Your hair has gotten far too long, you decide. Within minutes, you can feel the wind nip at your neck again. You take the single bag from the table beside you, digging around inside with one hand while sweeping the cut hair off of your clothes with the other. Stepping close to the mirror, you let the black makeup slide across your lips again. You play with the makeup around your vivid purple eyes until you are satisfied.

You pull your needles from the table where they sit. Looking your reflection dead in the eyes, you mark a dark X on the pale skin of your exposed throat with your lipstick. Your hand is shaky and scared as you position the tip of the needle at the center of the mark. For a brief second, you see a flash of a young girl, maybe thirteen or so. She smiles brightly back at you before looking over at her friends. They seem to be about thirteen too, three of them. A boy with ice-white hair and a casual smirk playing at his lips. A girl with wild black hair and large round glasses. A boy with a goofy, buck-toothed grin on his face and a ghost on his shirt. A tear rolls down your cheek as the vision vanishes and you stand there, a scared young goddess, with makeup smeared across your eyes and a knitting needle at your throat. And then you press, and the world goes dark once again as you wait to be reborn.

Your name is Rose Lalonde, and death is your only friend in this lifeless, broken game.


	2. And She Was Infinite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She fancied herself infinite, and that was her downfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Prequel to Chapter 1 of Crayons

She fancied herself infinite, and that was her downfall.

She was thirteen and scared, but maybe that only fueled her fantasies. She believed she was immortal. She believed that they all were, but it had become increasingly apparent that they weren't.

Dave fell.

No, Dave was fine, Dave was next to her, Dave was alive and breathing. It was only her Seer powers acting up again. The beast glowed.

Jade screamed.

Dave fell.

He did not struggle back to his feet as he had before, the light did not return to his crimson eyes. Somewhere, Rose heard the chime of a clock. Whether it was real or imagined, she did not know. Words flooded through her head, behind her eyes, with every ring.

Heroic.

Just.

Heroic.

Just.

Heroic.

The clock stopped chiming. Dave was still. Dave was not infinite.

The beast was gone, a flash of green light before them, then behind them. John screamed, yelled a string of unintelligible words.

He did not finish.

She whipped around, just in time to see the blade meant for her bury itself six inches deep into her best friend's back. The clock chimed. John fell.

John was not infinite.

Her only remaining thought was to save Jade. She brandished her needles, charging the beast, only to fall into the space where it had just been standing. A crackle of green behind her caused her to whip around, but there was nothing there. It was silent. There was nothing.

A scream, a clock.

Jade fell.

Jade was not infinite.

Rage was all she knew, it nipped at her skin and lapped at the edges of her vision with fiery red tongues. She brandished her needles once more.

A crackle of green, a thunderclap. The beast stabbed his blade into her.

She did not fall.

Rose Lalonde was infinite.

With a flick of her wrist, the beast was no more. He fell in a flash of black and green, dissolving as he plummeted towards the checkered earth. Rose sank to her knees after him, arms falling limp at her side. Her friends lay in puddles of their own blood, shadowed by the massive looming castle.

Rose knew that the hallways of that castle were smeared with blood.

She knew that her hands were smeared with blood as well.

**Author's Note:**

> granted, its like a year-old fic and i havent really edited it much but
> 
> comment?? maybe possibly?? please?


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